


Draco Malfoy Is A Git

by blibberinghumdiggory



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Roommates, small panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8419624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blibberinghumdiggory/pseuds/blibberinghumdiggory
Summary: Draco Malfoy is a git.  A pompous, snarky, bitchy, foul, gitty git.  And yes, we share a dorm, and study together, and have casual, normal conversations, like ‘how was your day?’ and ‘do you want anything from the kitchens?’.  And yes, we may even be friends, but he is still a git.  And yes, perhaps I only think he's a git since he is constantly bringing different guys into our room to ravish all night.  Perhaps I only think he's a git because he's irritatingly attractive and he makes me smile when I don’t want to and blush stupidly and laugh a lot and makes me constantly aware of how bloody adorable he is.  But he is still a git.





	

Draco Malfoy is a git.  A pompous, snarky, bitchy, foul, gitty git.  And yes, we share a dorm, and study together, and have casual, normal conversations, like ‘how was your day?’ and ‘do you want anything from the kitchens?’.  And yes, we may even be friends, but he is still a git.  And yes, perhaps I only think he's a git since he is constantly bringing different guys into our room to ravish all night.  Perhaps I only think he's a git because he's irritatingly attractive and he makes me smile when I don’t want to and blush stupidly and laugh a lot and makes me constantly aware of how bloody adorable he is.  But he is still a git.

He is still a git because this is the third time this week that I've had to study in the common room while he's shagging some Ravenclaw 7th year.  And most of all he is still a git because he just is.

My DADA essay is certainly not getting done anytime soon because all I can think about is Draco.  Draco and what _exactly_ he is doing with that boy right now. Draco and how I wish it were me who would have to awkwardly shuffle out of the common room the next morning, everyone knowing what I'd been doing all night.  Draco and how cute he looks when-

"Harry, you've been awfully distracted, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Luna."

I look at the smiling girl sat beside me on the floor picking through the textbooks I'd scattered about in the vain attempt to kid myself into studying.

"Luna?"  I ask as the thought occurs to me all of a sudden.  "Yes, Harry?" she replies.  "How did you get into the 8th year common room?"

She looks up at me as though I am as simple-minded as a Flobberworm, yet still maintains that permanently wide-eyed expression.

"Well, the Glitterflies, of course,” she laughs.

“Ah,” I say, not understanding at all, “Of course."

Luna's hair is very blonde, silvery white, but thinner than Draco’s hair.  His hair is glossier and softer-looking hair.  He’s left it a bit messier this year, it suits him, kind of tousled and casual and careless.  Every time I look him I just want to run my hand through it and-

"Wotcher Harry," Neville calls uncharacteristically, pulling Harry from his reverie.

"Hi Neville.  You looked stressed, what's up?" I reply, shaking my head slightly in an attempt to get out of my thoughts.  Neville seems to shrink where he’s standing, fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe and shuffling his feet.  He glances over his shoulder and sighs miserably.

"Um well, Pansy sent me to tell you something,” he mumbles.

"Really?” I reply with a raised eyebrow, disbelieving that Neville – who killed a massive snake - is still falling for Pansy’s intimidating trickery, “She's sending you on errands now?"

"She's an intimidating woman, Harry," the boy sighs.  Harry has to agree and says, "Don't I know it.  What does she want?"  Neville hesitates and looks back, miming words over his shoulder, clearly embarrassed.  
I had to admit that at this point am quite intrigued, though I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s some kind of dare poor Neville has been forced to carry out and I’m merely the unfortunate target.

"Fucking hell Neville, just tell him!" Pansy yelled from across the common room.  I turned in my chair to face her and called back, "Since it's your message why don't you just tell me yourself, Pansy?"

She groans loudly and gestures to her ‘seat’, "Because, Golden Boy, I am perfectly comfortable here."  
"Hermione, can't you just push her off your knee?" I ask.  
"Sorry, Harry."

  
Neville really did look like he’d rather be anywhere else.  In one quick burst, he blurted, "Pansy said to tell you that, um, she said that you should, you know, just, well, well, to just talk to him and well,” he looks back again to a stern Pansy, “Okay, well not _talk_ exactly, but that you should ‘have a different kind of conversation’ if, if you know what I mean."

I had no idea what he meant, “Neville what are you, wait why am I even talking to you, Neville, you’re not Pansy’s owl.  What are you on about, Parkinson, I’m trying to write an essay here.”  I said, directing the second part to the dark-haired girl rolling her eyes at me.

Pansy whispered something in Hermione's ear that made her grin, then she hopped off the girl's knee and sauntered over.  "Merlin, do I have to do everything myself?" she mumbled.

"I said," She gave Neville a pointed look and perched on the arm rest of my chair, "That you should stop moping about and just fuck him already."

"What? Neville? What on Earth, Pansy? I mean, no offence, mate." Harry said to Neville who was slowly turning beetroot.  "None taken," he squeaked, looking very much like he’d like to leave, but didn’t want Pansy to hex him.

It was then that I noticed everyone laughing at me, including Pansy who flicked me on the ear.

"Not Neville, you dolt, Draco." she corrected as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.  So it didn’t quite catch up with me until I had stopped complaining about my ear.

"Wait, what?"

Within moments I was at least three shades paler, and my blood was pumping in fear, humiliation, and sheer panic.  My safe façade of pretending to fine shattered and fell like children’s blocks from collapsing tower.  I suddenly became aware of how truly awful my life was about to become.  I couldn’t hear anything; my vision was hazy like a dream.  I felt like I was underwater, like I was drowning.

Then I was swimming, I was being yanked out of the water, and I broke through the surface. Pansy was cackling.

“Turn it down a bit, honey, you’re worrying him,” Hermione said, “Don’t worry Harry, it’s okay, we haven’t said anything to Draco.”

“You di -,“ Pansy broke off, wheezing, “You, you, oh Merlin, Potter.  Don’t tell me you thought you were being _subtle_.”

I gaped at her, my mind still not focussed, everything felt foggy.  No one was supposed to know this but me, this was my secret, I can deal with it alone, but not with the whole school knowing.

She pouted at me and leaned against my shoulder, Neville took his leave as soon as he was out of her view and shuffled to Hermione.  “You think,” Pansy added, “That I didn't notice you getting all grumpy every time Draco ‘has some alone time with his special friends’?  I'm offended you think so low of me."  She put a hand on her heart as she spoke, acting rather dramatically wounded.

I took a deep breath and shook my head.  "Get over yourself, Parkinson, you're not that special."  The retort lacked the malice to truly offend, but it was better than just telling her to fuck off.

"Harry James Potter!  I am trying to help,” Her mock authoritative voice normally would have me rolling my eyes, but I was not in a very amused mood, in fact, it felt as though my heart had been ripped from my chest, dissected and pinned to the notice board.

Pansy leaned and whispered in my ear.  "Potter you're as straight as a rainbow and everyone but Draco knows it,” she stated, much to Harry’s chagrin, “Maybe not Weasley now I think about it, actually.  Anyway, my point is that both of you are utterly oblivious.  Draco still thinks you're dating Ginny!  For the sake of Merlin and Morgana at least go and say something to the boy."

She slunk off back to Hermione's lap, but not before yelling, "Just go and do him," across the common room.  Leaving me with some strange looks and my world crashing around me.

I can come to terms with the whole ‘everyone knows you’re gay, Harry’ thing, it’s not as though the whole wizarding population having knowledge of my private life is anything new.  The problem, other than my stupid adoration for Draco Malfoy, seamed to instead stem from the idea that Draco could possibly think I was still dating Ginny.  Of course, Draco not knowing about my devastating love for him was most definitely a plus when one considers the possibility of him laughing at me behind my back and the long term trauma that _that_ would have caused me (on top of the already existing pile of steamed dungbombs).  However, even if Draco did, by some kind and generous deity’s wish, ‘look’ at me in a certain way, he was never going to do anything about it.  This was causing me great internal conflict.

On one hand, I could tell Draco that I’m not dating Ginny and potentially create suspicion.  On another, I could tell him I’m gay, which would simultaneously get rid of the Ginny thing, and assure that Draco feels comfortable making a move if he wants to, but definitely will result in questions and could end terribly.  And on the magical third hand, I could simply not do anything at all, which seems like a glorious idea.

Pansy, however, did not agree, and seemed to be under the suspicion that there was a fourth choice that consisted of me confessing my feelings and everyone living happily ever after.  Somehow, I did not see that one happening.

Why Pansy felt that there was any way that Draco would be willing to date _anyone_ long-term, let alone _me_ , was beyond me.  Any other year and I would’ve known that all she was doing was trying to embarrass me, but surely, she wouldn’t do that now, not when it’s something that could completely ruin mine and Draco’s friendship, which she was campaigning for since the start of this year.

Most likely she’s somehow got it in her head that because I like Draco and Draco likes boys that surely us getting together is simply going to happen at some point.  Which is ridiculous, because I don’t just like Draco, I – for some crazy stupid dumb luck – am inexplicably in love with him.

For a moment I entertain the idea that we somehow do end up in a fling-like scenario.  It would be everything to me, raw and beautiful and overwhelming and _magic_.  To Draco though, it would mean nothing, it would be the same between us as it was with his past flings.  And I would be crushed.  Knowingly.

Draco does not feel the same way about me as I feel about him.  I would know, I would see.  Pansy seems to have plucked this idea from thin air.  Does she not realise for this to work that it must go both ways?

Suddenly I want to be alone.  And, hoping that my dorm will be free by now and Draco has gone to the roof or something, I gather my things.  One look at Pansy tells me that she does not want to be disturbed from her physical discussion with the brightest witch of our age.  I send a stinging hex her way and interrupt them.  She glares at me, Hermione goes red, apparently now having realised that they were in a very public place.

"Honestly, Pansy, I _wish_ I could,” I say and trudge up the steps to my dorm, glad that I have at least managed to mildly irritate her.  As I climb the steps ignore the familiar twisting sensation in my gut.  Either I’m about to walk in on something I _really_ don’t want to see, or I’m walking in on the aftermath.

I knock before entering, but there is no reply, so I fling open the door.  The room is empty, thank Merlin.  Draco's bed is messy, but it always is so there’s no saying that anything has happened.  The curtains around the four-poster are open, there's nobody inside.  I shove my books on the desk by my bed and walk towards the bathroom, the door is shut.  "Draco?" I call out, but again there’s no answer

I open the door and step inside apprehensively.  It creaks open and there he is, sat with his back against the wall, one knee bent, the other leg pressed against the bathHis head resting on the wall, his eyes closed, lips curved in a lazy smile.  He looked warm and soft in the candlelight.

Sat opposite him, her back against the bath, with a hand over her mouth to supress laughter, was none other than Ginny Weasley.  What she was doing here I had no idea.  How she even got in I don’t know, probably something to do with Luna and her made-up magical creatures.

I was, without a doubt, shocked.  Draco Malfoy hanging out with a Weasley?  Especially Ginny, who he seemed to hate the most.  This was unprecedented.

I coughed loudly from where I stood awkwardly in the doorway, not too sure what was happening, but relieved that they were getting along, something I had been trying to force for a while.  Also, the fact that I hadn’t just walked in on another of Draco’s ‘conquests’ was certainly a plus.  My confusion, however, remained strong.

"Oh, Harry, hi,” Draco said, surprised as he clocked me standing in the doorway, “I didn't know you'd be back so soon, I thought, thought you were studying."  He stumbled over his words in his surprise.

"I was, but I was tired decided to come back up,” I lied, “Weren't you with some guy?"  I tried to sound casual, but I’m awful at it, really.  I see now what Pansy means about a lack of subtlety.

He looked a bit sheepish at first, but his eyes flicker momentarily with annoyance.  "Um, no, he, he left when Ginny got here,” Draco says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.  He sent a quick, pleading look to Ginny and something slotted into place.  Dear Merlin, I though, please let me be wrong.  I felt a burning, heavy awful sensation of something sliding down into my stomach.

“Oh,” I said, my voice falsely cheery as my head chanted please no, please no, please no, “Sorry, were you guys -,“

"No, no, no, Harry, Merlin no,” Ginny quickly corrected, far from reassuringly.  I felt tired, my shoulders were slumping, and my heart was beating forcefully in my chest like it was trying to jump out and make a run for it.

"It's fine if you did, I mean, doesn't matter to me, does it?" I said slowly, putting all my efforts into keeping a straight face and hoping neither of them could see my world tumbling down.  They exchanged another look.

"Harry, are you implying that I fucked your girlfriend?" Draco says, looking extremely bewildered.  Confused, I splutter, a lifting sensation of relief washing through me as I register what he is saying, but simultaneously the need to correct him is strong as Ginny and I both go red and stumble through our words.

"Ginny and – what? No, we aren't -"

"What Harry's trying to say is that -"

"We haven't, I mean we're not -"

"For months now, before we even came back-"

"I mean erm -"

"It didn't work out, Harry just, um -"

"I'm gay."

I have no idea why I just said that, why did I need to say that?  Oh dear Merlin, now of course he’s going to figure it all out.  Then he’s going to be all nice about it but say he’s sorry, but it’s just not going to happen and I’m going to end up chucking myself out of Gryffindor Tower.  "Bollocks," I curse loudly.

"Harry, did, did Draco know that?" Ginny said, looking panickily between me, who’s very red in the face, and Draco, who is sat unnervingly still, his mouth slightly open.

"I'm not sure, I mean it wasn't a secret,” I say quietly, still slightly in shock at myself for blurting out something so personal for no reason.

"Harry, you do realise what we've been talking about the past hour?" Ginny says, sighing.  I look at her questioningly with no idea how this is in any way relevant, “No, what?”  
  
"Well, Draco,” she coughs, “Draco, he -"

"That's enough, Ginevra," Draco interrupted.  Ginny gapes at him, affronted, "Did you just call me Ginevra?"

"Gin, please, he doesn't need to know.  It'll just fuck things up, it doesn’t matter."  His voice was soft, quiet and sad.  I hadn't known that they were this close, and it unnerved me for a moment.

"I think you've already done that perfectly well on your own already," she accuses with a raised eyebrow.  Draco huffs at her.  I attempt to intercept, but they both say, "Not now, Harry,” and continue to look at each other meaningfully, neither backing down.

Ginny stood, looking between myself and Draco.  I was still in the doorway, standing stiffly, with no clue what was going on.  Draco pulled both knees up to his chest and let his head fall back against the wall like he had when I’d walked in.  I could see his Adam's apple move and my eyes were fixated upon it.  Ginny sighs beside me and throws her arms up in the air.

"That's it, you two sort this out yourselves, there is too much sexual tension and I can't handle it anymore,” she says, and leaves closing the door behind her loudly on her way out.  I can’t think, I can only avoid Draco’s eyes and be very aware of my heart beating frantically in my throat.  What has she just done? I think.  She’s ruined everything.

Wanting nothing more than to retreat to the safety and comfort of my bed, I groan and sit next to the boy on the floor, my legs stretched out in front of me, my back to the wall, head to the ceiling mimicking how Draco is sat.  I await my doom.

We sit that way for a little while, watching the candle wax from the bracket on the wall drip onto the side of the bath.  He speaks first.

"Were you ever going to tell me you're gay?"  He says, so quietly that I would have missed had I been paying attention to anything else other than the suffocating silence between us.

"I just assumed everyone already knew.  I mean, they do, just, just not you I suppose," I reply, very aware of every breath I take, sure that he should be able to hear how frantically my heart is beating.

"So,” he smiles, still not looking at me but straight ahead, “you're not homophobic then?"

I let out a surprised burst of laughter, too loud in the quiet bathroom.  "Merlin no, Draco, that would be rather hypocritical.  Wow, I'm not an ass, you know."

Draco smiled sheepishly, but I felt his shoulder relax.  "Sorry, it's just that you seemed mad at me.  Every time I bring someone back, you get all, I don't know, tense, I just assumed that -,"

My fists clench a little and I have to slow my breathing a little, I wish he’d not mention it at all, it’s like a kick in the face when you’re already down.  I look away, try to avoid his eyes.  I know he is looking right at me.  He’s figured it out.  If he hasn’t, I’m going to have to tell him anyway.

"See, you're doing it now," he says tiredly, “Why?  Is it just me?  Do I repulse you so much? You know I actually started doing it more often just to see what you’d do, just trying to make you break and finally fucking tell me what’s so wrong.  I didn’t even do anything with the last few, just came up here and played a few games of chess."  He’s breathless now, his eyes wide and his hands gesticulating madly.  “For fuck sake, Harry, just tell me why!”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.  I’m mad at him, but I understand.  To Draco, my actions will have been so frustrating.  I’ve got to tell him something, but no answer makes sense other than the truth.  Opening my eyes, I whisper, “You know why, Draco.”

“I don’t think I do,” he says, “I mean, I have an idea, but it’s absurd.  You wouldn’t be, you know, like _this_ , if it was just that you’d rather I’d go somewhere else.  The other idea is cancelled out by a million and one other things.  Please Harry, whatever it is, even if it’s, I don’t know, embarrassing, I need you to tell me.”

“I can’t,” I say.

“Harry please -,”

“No, I _can’t_.”

There’s a knock at the door and, jumping at the chance, I ignore Draco’s pleading look and tell whoever it is to come in.  I regret this when, moments later, Pansy, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Neville, and Ron all barrel into the small bathroom and begin babbling loudly over each other.

“Sorry!” Ginny yells, “I told them you might need some help and they all came.”

“Okay you two, I’m sure we can sort this out if we talk about this,” Hermione says.

“Wait, what’s happening, Hermione? Why are we here again?” Ron asks.

“Oh,” Luna exclaims, “Everybody shush for a second,” No one hears her, “Please, this is important.  Hello? Will you all please stop!” She shouts.  They do.  Luna smiles, “Good, now look at them, they clearly don’t need our help, their auras are practically merging.”

“What are you on about, Lovegood?” Pansy asks, rolling her eyes, “These two baboons need a kick and a shove before they can even ask each other to pass the pumpkin juice at breakfast.  You both need to just get other yourselves and confess your undying love already before we all kill you.”

I think I’m just about ready to live my life alone, reminiscing the good old days when someone was trying to kill me.

“What!” Ron shouts, “Harry and, and Malfoy? Malfoy?”

“Luna, you can see auras?” Hermione asks.

Ginny laughs nervously and herds them all out of the room miming apologies and biting her lip.  I don’t move my head from my hands until I heard the door close and the murmurs stop.  “Shit,” I whisper.  I hold my hand to my mouth and try to stop myself from crying, “Oh _Merlin_.”  My breathing comes quickly and erratically in short burst of panic.  My blood is thundering through my body, but I feel cold.

Suddenly a warm weight lays itself across my back, stroking and calming and soothing.  I can hear distant soft tones, but I cannot make out any of the words.  I feel as though I am separated from the world by a thin sheet of glass.  I’d like to say that I shattered it, but in reality, that warm, that soft sound made it fall apart, breaking until I could hear again, and I could see my hands and feel my toes and take deep breaths.

My back was tingling at Draco’s touch, the warmth of his fingers seeping through my jumper and firing through my nerves and senses all over my body.  He was speaking to me.  “It’s okay, Harry, you’re alright.  That’s it, breathe in…and out.   In…and out.  You’re fine, okay?  I’m here.”

“Draco?”

“Harry, just focus on your breathing,” he says.

“No, it’s - I’m fine, Draco, really.  Thanks.”  He takes his arm from my shoulders and I feel cold, regretting my words immediately.  Closing my eyes, I say, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really,” Draco replies, “I don’t much like my personal feelings being exposed like that.  I’m sorry about Pansy, she somehow thinks that you getting annoyed about the ‘thing’ means that you feel the same way and I -,”

“Draco,” I interrupt, “What are you saying exactly?”

“That I - that is to say - that, well, that I’m in love with you.”

I kiss him.  And I kiss him.  And I kiss him again.  Each time more wonderful, more magical than the last.  Dreams become reality and I can touch him, I can feel His skin on my skin, his hand in mine, my lips on his.  I can run my hands through his hair and wrap my arms around his neck.

“I love you, too,” I tell him.  He laughs, “Alright, Scarhead.  I’d pretty much gathered that.”  Then he kisses me.

I may be in love with him, but Draco Malfoy is still a git.


End file.
